


Just The Way We Are

by justbygrace



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Canon verse, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 20:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10521642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: A mid-Journey's End ficlet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was "ten, tentoo and rose having some dirty fun" & this is nothing like what they were expecting. :)  
> Set during Journey's End, but what it prequels is entirely up to you.

Finding yourself between two men who are at odds with one another is a bit complicated but when one is nine hundred and something and the other could be argued at about six hours old, it can be downright exhausting. At least, that's what Rose Tyler had quickly discovered.

The Doctor - the one in the brown-suit - had made it seem like it was going to be a quick ten or fifteen minute trip towing the earth back home and then everything would be hunky-dory (he'd actually said "hunky-dory" and then shuddered and Rose had to bite back tears because it was so him and she was here with him and she never thought she'd see that stupid little shudder again). As usual, he was wrong. They were now close to the four hour mark and, if the clanking noises from under the console were any indication, they had at least another four.

Which is exactly where the "at odds" bit came in. Because the brown-suited Doctor was certain that he knew what the problem was and he didn't need any help, thanks. But the blue-suited Doctor was seated on the edge of the grating and was swinging his feet and practically singing out advice (he actually had sang a bit about a catalytic converter to the tune of 'Jingle Bells' and Rose was certain smoke had actually poured from the other Doctor's ears in that moment). 

Rose was perched on the edge of the grating also, but situated halfway between the two Doctors where she could easily put a hand on either of their shoulders, and thinking that Jack's announcement of drinks and snacks in the kitchen was sounding better and better. Unfortunately all the others had given her very pitying looks and fled the room. She was sure if she left these two alone together all that would be left of one would be scraps of cloth and some tufts of really great hair. She hadn't quite made up her mind about which one would be the victor of that match.

Some part of her brain wanted to consider the possibilities that were literally before her (or beside her, whatever): the whys and whats and whens and wherefores of how on earth - or time and space - this was supposed to work. There was the niggling of pessimism that suggested this wasn't going to end well for all of them, that someone was going to get left behind, that the three of them weren't going to be able to hold hands and skip through all of time and space. However, the Doctor-in-blue was currently tossing screws at the Doctor-in-brown's back and she didn't have time to be pessimistic or optimistic or anything else istic either.

"Doctor," she began in a very steady voice, the kind that she used to calm wild dogs or Daleks or Time Lords.

She was unnerved when they both turned to look on her with identical eager-to-please expressions.

"Um, yes, that'll work," she mumbled, before clearing her throat and continuing in a louder voice, "Doctor, this is ridiculous. You are you and you are you! I understand that you think you're better than you, but you're not. You're precisely equal."

"Well, not precisely," the Doctor-in-blue started.

"Strictly speaking, we aren't equal in every way," the Doctor-in-brown butted in.

They turned to glare at each other and Rose had a fleeting vision of identical twin toddlers. The benefits for wrangling Time Lords had better be astronomical she decided, before clapping her hands and hopping down into the underbelly of the TARDIS. Both Time Lords opened their mouths, probably to tell her she was going to mess something up, but she leveled them both with a glare that shut them up right quick.

Grabbing up a wire that lay abandoned, she spliced it with one of the ones dangling just to the left of the console. A quick tap to the base of the much-discussed converter and a slight adjustment of the nozzle that fed energy into the rotor and their was a sudden whirring and flashing of lights and the familiar whooshing of the rotor filled the room.

Both Doctors were staring at her as if she were J K Rowling and Shakespeare and a mathematical equation and an undiscovered natural mineral all wrapped up into one fantastic package.

"What?" She shrugged and wiped her dirty hands on a rag that had maybe seen better days. "I've learned a thing or two in Pete's World."

Both Time Lords were still looking as if speech was something they weren't sure the basics of and, quite frankly, it was a good look on them. Before she could hoist herself back onto solid ground, two identical hands appeared beside her and she rolled her eyes and pulled herself up. Honestly, it was like they forgot she could do things on her own.

"No more trouble, right Doctor?" she asked, making sure to look both of them in the eye. 

The one in blue had a streak of dirt across his left cheek and was grinning at her with all the enthusiasm of a schoolboy who has just discovered how to sneak out of his bedroom window. The one in brown was wiping his hands on his pants and there was a tightening around his eyes and lips that she had always associated with an inability to quickly remedy a situation. But, despite the differences (which she mostly credited to their relative age), the look of love that was shining out of their eyes demonstrated clearly that they were both her Doctor.

"Can't promise," the blue-suited one announced.

"Trouble is practically my middle name," the brown-suited one cut in.

And then they glared at each other and Rose reached forward and patted each of their heads, enjoying the silky-smooth feel of their hair. The feeling that was equal parts optimism and pessimism was still buzzing through her mind, but it was beginning to be replaced by a calm that she hadn't truly felt since before Canary Wharf. With a last glance towards the kitchen and the sounds of merriment she could vaguely hear, she sank down on the grating, she was happy right where she was.


End file.
